Quis ut Deus? - Fall of Purity
by MorphaKnight
Summary: Follows the road that the kid from vault 101 must traverse in order to transform himself into the legend of the Capital Wasteland: The Lone Wanderer. Story is set at the Enclave attack of Project Purity.
1. Chapter 1

Washington D.C. The Capital of the United States of America. The pinnacle of human civilization. What was once the shining beacon of freedom and patriotism became a husk of its former self.

After the Great War, the nation's capital took the full brunt of the attack compared to its sister cities. What remains now is the desolate Capital Wasteland. A blight of a world filled with nightmarish tales that were once, were considered the imaginations concocted by an innocent child from a peaceful time. These tales however, now exist and threaten the remnant societies of human civilization. Disfigured and abominable monsters that roam the breadth of the land armed with either sharp claws, thick hardened green skin or even a rusted, worn down R91 Assault rifle. They have only one thing in common: preying on the last bastions of human societies.

Much of what America stood for changed for the worst. The best shopping mall in the capital, Paradise Falls, which housed many of the latest boutique and apparel stores selling the latest in fashion, now houses enslaved people to be bought and sold as nothing more than a commodity to satisfy a consumer be it through laborious or certain deviant needs.

The National Mall which contained many of humanity's greatest achievements be it through museums and monuments or the passing and enacting of free and emancipating laws, became a deadly warzone with factions vying to control it to expand their territory be it chaos, stability, survival or for private gain.

The metro tunnels, which was a vast web of trains that civilized commuters hurriedly rode on despite how smoky and crowded it was to reach their destination, became abandoned tunnels with rusted cars that blocked pathways. Many dangers lurked within the dark, dank tunnels that unless someone was properly equipped, it was a fool's mission to traverse the shadowy tunnels.

The year is 2277. Two hundred years since the Great War has imposed it's wrath on man's greed and pride. It is a quiet November night. The eighth of the month. Where many of the Capital Wasteland's denizens rested. For some slept soundly inside the safe barricaded walls of Megaton or Rivet City. Others stayed vigilant, exhausted and weary like the citizens of Big Town and Arefu. To them, it was just another night, all of them hoping to live to see the next light of day. To them, this was the only treasure they could reap from the wasteland.

Yet for some others, that was not the case. Others had a sense of purpose. Others went against the laws of the wasteland and saw fit to enact their own reality. It has almost been three months and tales have been told of a young man who left an underground vault spreading justice, peace and struggling for the good of mankind. Protector of the innocent. The Capital Crusader. The Vault Legend. This man has went by many names and titles, but he is known to all as The Lone Wanderer.

Many myths and stories revolved around the mysterious wanderer. Some say he singlehandedly defeated many mutant hordes, slaughtered mercenaries and hit men squads and eradicated many camps belonging to raiders and bandits. His abilities are even more mysterious. Some claim he can vanish in an instant, kill people who outnumber him in the blink of an eye and isn't affected or unfazed by any wounds or injuries.

Despite all those titles and stories, it is on this night, the eighth of November, that he is someone else. Someone's son. For it is on this night, as the citizens of the Capital Wasteland sleep, a group of determined scientists set out to finish what they started years ago in the Jefferson Memorial building. Their will is unwavering as they set out to bring fresh, endless and a clean supply of water. Free and for all. Father and son, working together toiling away for the good of mankind.

* * *

**Authors Notes:** New writer here. Never really written a story before. I'm a huge fallout fan and had this story in my mind for a while now and would like to see it just play out in front of me. Who knows, if I can pull it off correctly, it could culminate into a short trilogy. I can see that there are plenty of titan authors in the fallout series and while my story may seem smaller, I'd hope for it to be as good as some of the good stories in here. A couple of resources I'll be using is the fallout wikia as well as in game dialogue between people. With these two, I hope I could tie in some bits and pieces from the fallout world that are not usually tied up together. I also decided to begin the story from a critical moment, because I am plenty sure that nobody wants to read another vault origin story of Lone Wanderer.

Another thing to note is that English is my second language. Although you will never find me misspelling a word, I apologize beforehand if my grammar skills are not good enough. I shall try to the best of my ability to entertain you, dear reader. Criticisms and reviews are welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

A calloused, greasy hand belonging to a young man wearing a worn out repairman's jumpsuit excitedly pushed on the intercom's button. In a soft tone the young man spoke:

"Okay dad, I'm here. The mainframe is up again."

An old man's voice not unlike his own echoing back said:

"Excellent work son. There are a few minor repairs waiting to be done up here in the control room. Why don't you come back up here and give me a hand?"

Before the young man could answer, the voice interrupted back "Actually, wait. There's another thing I need you to do. Janice says there's a blockage in one of the intake pipes. It's on your way back; head back up to the museum level and give me a call on the intercom when you get there." The intercom shut off.

The young man sighed. Although he has finally been united with his father, their new relationship has been less than stellar. He wanted to get to know this James, but his father never gave him a chance.

The walk or rather "run" back from vault 112 to Rivet City was with very little interaction. For three months the young man kept wondering and imagining what meeting his father again would be like. He was disappointed that his father left off to rivet city to chase his fantasy. Not realizing the urgency and necessity of accomplishing this goal. Despite this, he decided to trudge on and persevere, hoping and waiting for a moment to connect with his father.

He smirked to himself, thinking how alike they were when it came to their determination. Despite the new found mysteriousness of his father, the young man thought of their similarities. At least the physical ones. He was of average height, roughly 5'9. A hardened build suited for enduring the harsh environments of the wasteland. He had piercing brown eyes and dark brown hair, almost chocolate like. It was a smooth wave haircut, just like his father. He saw fit to keep himself clean, shave his beard so that he would look as presentable as possible when he met his father.

He was covered in dirt, grime and grease from all the work his father has given him. Fixing generators, clearing intake pipes, inserting fuses and draining silos. Thankfully he found an extra spare withered and tattered jumpsuit for all the cleaning and maintenance work.

He was usually seen wearing green combat armor, a backpack and a plethora of armaments ready to tackle whatever obstacle that is in front of him. He would hate to have his armor covered in more grease and muck. It takes hours to clean off the sickly green mutant blood. Adding grease and motor oil would've been insult to injury. His equipment was left inside the rotunda. Feeling it was safer where his dad was.

He kept wondering and doubting if he and his father have truly connected with one another. He was bewildered as to why, after 19 years his father was so fixated on this project. Did he truly care for the wasteland? The young man wondered as even though he brought justice and happiness to most of the settlements, he had his reasons. All of them were to fuel his ability in locating his father. While he appreciated the compliments and the praise he received from the wastelanders, in the end what mattered to him was the weapons, meds and caps. Resources. Resources needed to survive. But now that he has fulfilled his purpose, what else is there left to do?

He cast these thoughts aside and set off to the museum level. Armed with a toolbox, a 10mm pistol, which was always close to him and his father's determination, he walked back up to the entrance corridor and located the old intercom. With the button pushed, the man called out for his father. "Hey, I reached the place."

His father instructs him "All right, you should just be outside the pipe that's been giving us trouble. Now don't worry, this isn't dangerous at all. Just get inside and use the manual controls to drain the pipe. That'll break up the debris enough for the filters to function properly."

The man informs him "Okay dad. I'm going in."

"Now I won't be able to contact you once you're in there." His father explains "You'll exit near the cisterns and then you can get in touch with me again."

"Alright, I'll keep you posted." replied the man acknowledging his father's words.

His father replied with sincerity "Good luck, son."

With that, the man, marched in, opening the rusted gate leading into the pipe. It was dim in there, and as he trudged on, he felt the crunching sound beneath every step he took inside the rusted pipe. He hated the tightness of the pipe. Nineteen years inside a vault and he hated how small the pipe was leading him into an unknown winding path with no idea where it'll take him. The idea of being in another tight surrounding area kept nagging at the back of his head. He marched on.

After opening another steel gate, he reached what appeared to be the manual controls. He noticed there was a large gap opposite the controls leading to the outside. It was dawn. The early rays of sunlight are starting to shine through. He didn't realize how long they were staying up working on the purifier. He approached the valve, grabbed it with both his hands and twisted it.

* * *

It was dawn. The early rays of light began shining upon the wasteland. It was another day to live. Another day to survive. Climbing onto the upper deck of Rivet City, Old man Lopez walked towards the edge of deck. He had stood atop that deck for days on end and the thought of ending his life has crossed his mind more than once. If not for that fateful day he met the Lone Wanderer, he would've considered it. The wanderer beckoned him on a morning like this, informing him that young men the likes of Ted Strayer could use his knowledge and experience in life. Lopez was contemplating many a times of the day he met the young man. It was then that a loud cacophony of whirling blades that broke his thought. He looked towards the Jefferson Memorial and was bewildered at the sight of flying machines not too dissimilar from the machines at the flight deck of the carrier. These looked clean, sleek and were not tainted by the wasteland's touch of decay. He wondered what would bring them over to the Memorial and what new events would transpire today in the wasteland.

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**Author's Notes**: So with the first chapter set as the background of the story, I had this bit lying around. As you can see the story is set in motion.


End file.
